Five Things You From Which You Can't Go Back
by MidnightOfTheSoul
Summary: Harvey says something, his words wrapping around the air like a shadow, hovering between silence and darkness: "Do you ever wonder…?" *epilogue*
1. Chapter 1

Title: Five Things From Which You Can't Go Back (1/5)

Pairing: D/H

Rating: K+

Summary: She can't help but wonder if their insatiable desire for each other is going to morph into the quiet complacency of scheduled evenings for sex and date nights. FUTURE!FIC. D/H

A/N: This is a FUTURE!FIC. No specific time in the future. The timeline WILL NOT be chronological. This is a _five_ _things _in the sense that there will be five chapters. Once again, I gauge interest in a story by the feedback, so please let me know what you think. Thanks for reading, enjoy!

.::.::.::.

It's a regular Friday, just like any other. They have a routine now; Donna takes off before Harvey, picks up food to cook for dinner, while he wraps up things at work. On his way home, he spends a ridiculous amount of time picking out wine and something for dessert.

They never manage to get all the way to dessert, but that doesn't stop him from buying it. Besides, he's found that Donna gets ravenous around two and sugary confections only make things more exciting for him.

Tonight, he's settled on chocolate truffle with gold flakes. Donna suggested he pick up a pinot noir, so he labors over which will pair the best with their meal. In the end, his desire to eat and get home to Donna wins out and he picks his usual brand.

Harvey can practically smell the food when Ray drops him off outside, most certainly receiving a look of envy from his driver. He's not sure what it is, but he feels like he gets a lot of envious looks lately, like everyone can tell how ass over backwards he is for the gorgeous woman at his side. Maybe he's always received these looks and never noticed until now. Now that it matters.

The elevator doors open and the soft notes of a mellow saxophone are reverberating off the walls as he makes his way to the kitchen. Shoving his hands into his pockets, he watches her move around with ease and comfort, tasting whatever is simmering in the large pot, then reaching to take a large sip from her glass of water.

"Are just going to stand there, or are you going to give me a hand?" She shoots him a knowing look over her shoulder, a faint blush sweeping over her neck.

"You look like you've got it from here," he moves forward, his fingers itching to rub against her back, her sides, everywhere all at once. Instead when she turns, he reaches out and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, giving her a soft kiss before she turns back to the pot.

"Mmmm. Smells delicious. What are we eating?"

"Beef bourguignon. It's my mother's recipe, so if it's awful, blame her."

"I wouldn't dare." He keeps his arms wrapped around her waist, his back pressed into her as he breathes in the scent of her hair, soaking in her warmth. "How about you go change? I can keep an eye on this."

She smiles up at him in thanks and plants a grateful kiss at the corner of his jaw. "Give it another two minutes then stir."

.::.

Donna changes clothes quickly, pulling on her favorite pair of jeans and tugging on a plain t-shirt. Once they get in for the weekends, clothing tends to be more optional than anything. She keeps her hair down, but takes off the rest of her jewelry. Padding into the kitchen barefoot, Harvey has already removed his coat, tie, and vest, and is in the process of rolling up his sleeves.

"I don't know why you waste time rolling your sleeves when you know I'm going to be pulling this off you anyway."

"Because you like my forearms."

"I like all of you equally."

"Liar." He was right. She really, really liked his ass. And his lips. And his tongue. Definitely that. Okay maybe everything equally.

She rolls her eyes, pulling two plates from the cabinet and placing them next to the wine glasses Harvey set out.

"I put the bread in the oven. Should be ready in five," he states as he rubs unnecessarily close beside her and goes into the bedroom to change.

As she looks around, she realizes that half her apartment is over here, her running shoes are under the table, her earrings are on the counter, her magazines are on the table. Neither one of them has approached moving together. Part of her doesn't think it would be a good idea. She likes her apartment, she still stays there occasionally, normally when it's been a rough day and they both need alone time.

However, over the course of the last few months, that alone time has dwindled to the point where the thought of her just going home straight from work last week put as close to a scowl on Harvey's face that she'd ever seen. Regardless, neither of them likes change, and just being _in_ a relationship is enough for a while.

She can feel his presence even before he reaches her. Something has gotten into him lately, it involves a lot of physical contact. Not that she minds, it just makes things at work distracting because he is always discreet, and always clever. Always.

Donna bends to pull the bread out of the oven, asking over her shoulder, "What's up with you lately?"

"What do you mean?"

"You can't keep your hands off me, not that I'm complaining."

His raised eyebrows tell her that he's mildly surprised she's even addressing the issue. "To be honest, I don't notice anything different."

"Really? Because you had your hand under my skirt today in the elevator."

"I have no idea how it got there," he helps her ladle the meal out of the pot, breathing the rich aroma deeply.

"Harvey," her tone is mildly disapproving, "the elevator was full."

"I can't help who gets on and off."

"You were certainly trying to control the _getting off_ part."

She takes a seat next to him, ignoring his smirk and careless shrug. "I like to keep my finger on the pulse."

"Next time, how about you search a little faster and be a lot less obvious about it."

"No one had a clue," Harvey's innocent face doesn't work when he looks like he hit jackpot. "Besides, I told you if you ever wore that skirt with the slit up to your ears that there would be consequences. A Specter always honors his word."

They move away from his workplace antics and into more mundane topics, a little bit of gossip, a little bit of day-to-day, and then the debate over which movie they'd start that night. In the end, Donna won, not like they watch much of it anyway.

"Just curious, but what did you get for dessert?" She wipes down the table as he puts the last of the dishes in the dishwasher.

"It's a surprise. Why?"

"I'm in the mood for chocolate."

"You'll have to wait and see —" he grabs the bag just out of her reach, moving away so that she can't peak inside.

"Are you seriously going to hide it?"

"Why yes, yes I am," he replies, mischievous gleam in his eye. And thus begins the chase around the apartment, and how Harvey breaks his toe.

"I can't believe I tripped on that damn shoe." Harvey tosses disparaging quips at the offending running shoe from his seat on the couch while Donna returns to the living room.

Donna sighs as she places the ice pack on his foot, rolling her eyes at his theatrics. He actually tripped on the rug, but she isn't going to tell him that. She keeps his foot propped up in her lap, while Harvey searches for an episode of Star Trek to watch. Firmly ensconced in the corner, her body is toward Harvey with her elbow propped on the back of the couch, warm and comfortable.

The show starts and she hunkers down, hand rubbing the soft hairs of Harvey's leg absently. Per usual, once they start an episode of Star Trek, a marathon commences. It's not until the third episode that she realizes Harvey has fallen asleep. Part of her is a little frustrated, she wanted some form of release after the hellacious day it's been, but she knows he's exhausted.

She takes the remote and shuts off the TV, then and returns the mushy ice pack to the freezer. Stretching slowly, she turns down the bed and pulls on a pair of yoga pants. After washing her face and brushing her teeth in readying for bed, she leans on the back of the couch and rubs Harvey's forehead gently, slowly easing him back into consciousness.

"Come to bed," she whispers as his dark eyes peer up at her sleepily. No argument, he gets up and hobbles into the bedroom. She takes off his shirt while he removes his sweats, and together they crawl under the sheets and blankets.

Harvey sleeps on his stomach almost always, yet manages to wrap an arm around her waist to bring her close. Even now, he's got his chin tucked near her neck, breathing her in as he settles. Placing one last kiss on her shoulder, he falls asleep.

Donna however, cannot sleep, her mind stuck on the fact that this will be the third time they've gone to sleep without sex and the other two times were from sheer exhaustion. They'd barely removed their clothes the other two times. This is legitimate going to sleep together without the sex. What have they come to?

She can't help but wonder if their insatiable desire for each other is going to morph into the quiet complacency of scheduled evenings for sex and date nights.

Before her mind can churn any further, she feels Harvey's hand slide down and move softly along the smooth skin of her stomach, hooking a finger into her waistband. He moves his foot and instantly tenses, having bumped his toe against her leg.

"Damn shoe," he mutters.

"I'll take all my shoes when I go home next time to get them out of the way, okay?" she states, distracted by his hand moving up her rib cage along the underside of her breast.

"Or you could just put them away."

"Do you have a secret closet that I don't know about? Last time I checked, yours was pretty packed."

She can feel his lips move against her skin, quirking into a smile. "You mustn't have checked in a while then, because I cleared out the closet by the bathroom."

Her heart seems to falter in her chest and she tenses. Harvey lifts his head at feeling her stiffen, alarmed at her reaction.

"Why didn't you tell me? All my stuff is crammed in those two drawers in your dresser."

"I _am_ telling you," he leans forward and kisses her long and sweet on the lips. "Besides, I thought you knew _everything_."

She huffs, but it's for show. They may not be moving in, but him reallocating a closet is as close as either one of them is getting for the time being. Baby steps. They're good at those. Settling into her pillow, she lets the soft sound of Harvey's breathing lull her to sleep, the rhythmic rubbing of his thumb on her side keeping in time with her heart.

When she wakes in the morning, it's to the feel of his hot kisses along her inner thigh and that clever thumb casually moving toward the _pulse_. Quiet complacency be damned.

.::.::.::.

A/N: I can't believe I ended it there. I totally should've gone for smut. That may be a deleted scene, we shall see.


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Five Things From Which You Can't Go Back (2/5)

Pairing: D/H

Rating: K

Summary: "Was I imagining things the other day or are you actually trying to arrange a marriage between our daughter and Jessica's son?" Donna and Harvey have a chat at a park. FUTURE!FIC. D/H

A/N: This is a FUTURE!FIC. No specific time in the future. The timeline WILL NOT be chronological and possibly have SEPARATE UNIVERSES. This is a _five_ _things _in the sense that there will be five chapters. Once again, I gauge interest in a story by the feedback, so please let me know what you think. Thanks for reading, enjoy!

.::.::.::.

It's Autumn and Donna is sitting on a bench at a park near their home. There's a soft breeze blowing and her coffee is the right temperature. Perfect people-watching weather. A light chuckle brings her attention to her daughter chasing two little boys around the swing set. Her hair looks almost copper in the bright sun, a far cry from the warm auburn it usually is.

Donna is secretly pleased that her daughter's hair isn't the same red as her own, despite loving her own hair. Children can be cruel and she suffered the plight of the ginger-haired when she was young. Being called _Carrots_ was tedious at best, but when boys would ask her if the curtains matched the drapes, she'd finally had enough and slugged one. His bloody nose and her suspension were totally worth it.

Her daughter trips and falls, sprawling out on the protective rubber surface of the playground. Donna doesn't even budge despite the overwhelming need to ensure her daughter is in one piece. Which of course, she is. Picking herself up and shaking off the initial shock of falling, she is the spitting image of her father in that moment, dark brown eyes and all. Two seconds later, she's climbing up the slide after the scrappy little blond-haired boy.

"I thought you two would be at home by now." Harvey rounds the bench and takes a seat beside her, slinging his arm carelessly along the back.

She glances at him as he takes a swig of his water; sweat tracking the center of his shirt, his legs sporting the sheen of having completed a Saturday run.

"She's having fun and I'm not getting sun burnt or suffering at home folding laundry. Win-win."

"And you say _I_ spoil her." He tracks his finger along her shoulder absently.

"Harvey, she has you wrapped so tight around her little pinky finger it's not even funny."

"Jealous?"

She doesn't dignify that with a response, only huffs into her cup of coffee. They sit in companionable silence, watching their daughter laugh and squeal and play, relishing this time.

"Did you hear that Jessica got her son enrolled in a pre-K class already?" Donna asks.

"You're joking, right? He can barely sit up."

Nodding, Donna replies, "Apparently the admission list is already filling up."

Harvey glances at her dubiously. "Is this your way of telling me that we need to visit one of those pretentious schools and promise that our first born will be first in her class at Harvard Med or something?"

"I'd rather she go somewhere else for med school," Donna replies thoughtfully. "Some place where the students have actually been on a date and have seen the human body outside of their anatomy classes."

"A little harsh?" Harvey's hand falls casually to her knee, rubbing circles slowly. "Anyway, she just turned two. Last week she was going to be a famous artist. The week before she was going to be a Disney Princess. Are we really contemplating what med school our kid is going to? "

"I told you, this is serious business. First thing is pre-k, next comes securing the venue for her wedding."

Harvey rolls his eyes at Donna's mock seriousness, both finding the highly-strung parents of their peer group equally ridiculous. "Was I imagining things the other day or are you actually trying to arrange a marriage between our daughter and Jessica's son?"

"What? Just because he's adopted doesn't mean we can't find out where he's from."

"Donna, arranging a marriage. Really?"

"Hey, I'm just looking out. I think our kids could help even out our justice league."

"I bet Mike will have something to say about that."

Donna smirks at Harvey. "Doesn't he always. Isn't Uncle Mike coming by later? He has a one-of-a-kind hand painting waiting for him on the refrigerator."

"I thought you did that one," Harvey shoots back, moving back in anticipation of her reactive smack on the arm. "Missed."

"Are you five?"

"No but you paint like _you_ are."

Donna decides not to dump the rest of her coffee on her husband. Just gives him a dirty look then falls into silence. His hand slowly returns, his fingers tracing along the back of her neck and giving her chills. Trying desperately not to get distracted while their child is playing with a bunch of kids, she focuses on the current mayhem on the playground.

"_Your_ daughter is going to be a terror when she gets older," Donna states with certainty.

"Right, because you were a walk in the park."

"_I_ was a perfect angel, thankyouverymuch. Besides, I actually took my studies seriously when I was in college. More than I can say for you."

Mock dismay overcomes his features. "Hey, I'll have you know I was an excellent student. I took great pleasure in perfecting everything set before me."

"Perfecting?" Donna lets out an unladylike snort. "Honey, you didn't even know how to do —" Harvey cups a hand over her mouth.

"Not so loud, children are near," he removes his hand when she starts licking his palm. "That's just… great. Thanks."

"As I was saying…"

"I am a wonderful, giving, loving husband?" He picks up her hand and kisses her palm softly.

"Hardly, but that a start." She watches as he pulls away to stand, frowning at the soreness in his thighs. "Going to take a shower?"

He nods before finishing the rest of his water. "I was hoping to have some company."

Donna grins impishly as he leans down and places a wet kiss on her temple. "That can be arranged… I'm feeling like pancakes could sweeten the proposition."

"Deal. I'll see you and the little fireball at home in a few?"

Donna nods as she grabs her keys and coffee then attempts to pry her daughter away from friends.

"Hey Superwoman, Daddy wants to make you pancakes!"

Her daughter stops in her tracks and looks at her with those beautiful eyes of hers. "With choc-o-late ships?"

Donna laughs at her daughter's mispronunciation. "Yes, with chocolate 'ships'."

"Can I have strawberries too?"

"Only if you come here right now and put on your shoes," Donna enjoys negotiating with their daughter. She only fears the day when her daughter will win.

The little girl weighs her odds. "Deal."

Donna rolls her eyes to herself as her daughter scrambles into her sandals. Spitting image of her father.

.::.::.::.

A/N: Next chap may be in the future or the past. Je ne sais pas. Thanks for read/reviewing! I didn't name the kid. I spent a ridiculous amount of time thinking of one and… yeah.


	3. Chapter 3

Title: Five Things From Which You Can't Go Back (3/5)

Pairing: D/H

Rating: K

Summary: He squeezes her even tighter and she wonders if they try hard enough, whether their skin and bones can melt into one another. It wouldn't be from lack of trying, that's for sure. FUTURE!FIC. D/H

A/N: This is a FUTURE!FIC. No specific time in the future. The timeline WILL NOT be chronological and possibly have SEPARATE UNIVERSES. This is a _five_ _things _in the sense that there will be five chapters. Once again, I gauge interest in a story by the feedback, so please let me know what you think. Thanks for reading, enjoy!

.::.::.::.

They're seated side by side. The office is stuffy and his hand is holding hers too tightly.

"I'm sorry, Donna. The test results are definitive. You're not getting any better," the doctor says this so apologetically, as though it were _his_ fault and not her body's, for failing her.

"How long?" Harvey whispers.

"A year. Maybe two."

"No," Harvey says from her side. "I reject that. You said there were two other trials we could pursue. Why is that no longer an option?"

The doctor shakes his head before responding. "Donna, Harvey — the leukemia is too advanced. The trials would only make things worse. Your quality of life would be very poor."

Harvey stands at this point, fists tight but otherwise impassive. "You said you were the best. You said you could help us. You Goddamn liar. Come on Donna, we'll find someone who knows what the hell they're talking about."

Harvey leaves, letting the door slam behind him.

Donna, quiet in all this, looks over at the doctor. "I'm sorry. He's doesn't know how to lose gracefully."

"It's okay. I get that all the time. You've got my number, Donna. Call it — anytime you need."

"Thank you… for everything," she stands and exits the office, but she's only moving through the motions. She gets outside and sees Harvey sitting on a bench near the bus stop. Taking a seat beside him, all is a haze of grey.

"I know a specialist," Harvey murmurs, "went to undergrad with her. Smartest person I've ever met. She works out in Seattle, I bet she could help. She could fix this."

She lets him make these grand plans of doctor visits and travel, while Ray rolls up in front of them. Donna shakes her head imperceptibly at Ray's inquisitive look before climbing inside in front of Harvey.

When they get home they're both quiet and despondent. Heading straight to the bedroom, she peels off her clothes, ignores how much weight she's lost, and turns the shower as hot as it will go. Scrubbing her skin until it's pink, she has yet to let the tears fall. Maybe it's shock. Maybe it's learning that her worst fear is coming true. Not the dying part, but leaving Harvey all alone. Maybe it's that Harvey hasn't cried either.

He's leaning against the bathroom counter when she gets out. He holds her robe open for her as she slips inside and wraps it around herself. She's afraid to look him in the eyes, doesn't want to see the pain and fear in them. He knows this. He knows everything. He grabs her hand and pulls her to their bed, tugs her down next to him.

When he curls around her, she can't tell who is consoling whom, and decides that it doesn't matter. So tangled in each other, so lost.

"You're just mad because I'm going to do something without you for a change," Donna whispers, breath warm on his neck.

She feels rather than hears something lurch in his throat, knows that he's trying hard not to let the tears fall. "Don't. Not yet."

He squeezes her even tighter and she wonders if they try hard enough, whether their skin and bones can melt into one another. It wouldn't be from lack of trying, that's for sure.

They hold each other until dusk settles in the room. She can feel by his slackened grip that he's asleep, but she's hungry. She climbs out of bed and heads into the kitchen, but stops when she sees what's waiting for her: a vase of exotic flowers, a bottle of wine — her favorite — and a card.

It's their anniversary.

Damn.

She exhales slowly and picks up the card. It's a crisp white card - expensive and no nonsense, just like Harvey.

She opens it and then, only then, do the tears finally start to fall.

_Nine years ago, I married my best friend. I never thought I could love you more than I did on that day, but every single day after — through the fights, the phenomenal make-up sex, the laughter, the tears — I've learned that I can and will always love you a little more with each passing day. Thank you, for finally saying yes. _

He doesn't sign it. He never signs things. She loves that about him.

She grabs two glasses and the bottle of wine, and then climbs back into bed, pouring a glass for the each of them. Leaning against the headboard, she strokes his brow softly, watching as he comes back into wakefulness. At first he smiles, because he always does when he sees her. Then, reality creeps back in and he pushes himself up on his forearms, scrubbing his face with his hand.

"It wasn't a bad dream was it?"

Shaking her head, Donna hands him his glass and takes a sip of her own. "No, but I'm still naked under this robe and we have a six-hundred dollar bottle of wine to kill."

He looks her in the eyes and all the worry and fear are wrapped up in his expression. _Don't leave me alone. Don't go. Stay. Forever. _She leans forward and kisses him on the nose and eyelids and corner of his jaw. He grabs her hand and kisses her palm, her wrist, her elbow. He takes her glass and sets both of them on the nightstand.

That night, he kisses every inch of her body. Every press of the lips, every lick of the tongue, every nip with his teeth, he loves her more. He never was very vocal about his feelings, but he is certainly expressive.

Besides, actions speak louder than words.

.::.::.::.

A/N: Guys, before you ask me where their daughter is, go back to the top A/N. I said separate universes. This chap is one of those and she doesn't exist in this one. And yes, I made our Ginger Queen terminally ill. Tragic, no?


	4. Chapter 4

Title: Five Things From Which You Can't Go Back (4/5)

Pairing: D/H

Rating: T

Summary: He looks up and his grin is so wide he thinks his face might split in two. "I happen to love redheads. Very much." FUTURE!FIC. D/H

A/N: This is a FUTURE!FIC. No specific time in the future. The timeline WILL NOT be chronological and possibly have SEPARATE UNIVERSES. This is a _five_ _things _in the sense that there will be five chapters. Once again, I gauge interest in a story by the feedback, so please let me know what you think. Thanks for reading, enjoy!

.::.::.::.

Harvey is having a good day. He succeeded in securing a fair, yet lucrative settlement for decent clients. In a rare act of benevolence, he sent the puppy home early to fix yet another broken heart. Lastly, the two most important women in his life were pleased with him; Jessica even thanked him for doing what she asked for once.

So imagine his surprise upon discovering a very angry redhead when he arrives at home. It's mainly the $500 vase being launched at his head that underscores the fury.

"Christ!" he ducks out of the way. "Donna! What the hell?"

"How stupid do you think I am, Harvey?" He takes a good look at her: tear marks on her face, her hair swept up into a messy bun. Normally when she's angry, she gives him the silent treatment and manages to control her temper fairly well. But this? She's livid.

"What are you talking about?"

"Oh come off it. Something has been going on for months. The late nights, the meetings with some mysterious client, taking out money from your private bank account —"

"How did you —"

"Not the time, Harvey," she places her fists on her hips. "I got home today and took a call from _Monica_. She said she'd love it if you'd call her back soon. She wants to talk about what you discussed at lunch."

Damn. He had a meeting with the Gallagher brothers at lunch. Which he may or may not have cut extremely short. Before he can even explain, Donna continues on.

"If you don't want to be with me anymore, then just say it. I'm a big girl Harvey. But don't sneak around behind my back."

"Donna —" his tone is a warning, because he knows where she is going with this.

"I mean, especially with your past and everything, I can't believe you'd…"

"Donna, don't finish that."

"— sink so low, you cheating little piece of —"

"I bought us a house!" It erupted from him like truth normally does, in a short burst and with much ardor. "Well, the land, at least. The house is being built."

All of a sudden, she deflates and everything gets very quiet. She blinks at him a couple times, letting the words register. He can see the wheels turning in her head letting everything match up.

"The meetings?"

"With the architect, Monica."

"The late nights?"

"Going over plans away from your prying eyes."

"Oh."

He shoves his hands in his pockets and gives her a disgruntled look. "Yeah, _Oh."_

Harvey watches her a little while longer as his words set in and she transforms into this proud, omniscient being.

"Alright."

Wait. What? Harvey looks at Donna, really looks at her, and starts shaking his head.

"How long have you known?"

"Truly?" she smiles her smug smile as she comes closer. "About a week." Passing him, she retrieves the broom and dustpan out of the closet. Donna hands him the dustpan and starts sweeping up her mess.

"Did you really have to throw the vase at my head?"

"Please. It was no where close to your head. You're so over dramatic."

"Says the woman who just threw a vase at me as an act. Sometimes, I swear to God, you were put on this earth to drive me crazy," Harvey mutters as she continues to herd the shards of glass into the pan.

"But you love me anyway?"

He stands up as she leans forward so that he can plant a soft kiss on her lips. "Damn right I do."

She kisses him again, pressing the words "I'm sorry" into his mouth.

"I wanted it to be a surprise." He backs away, his thumbs gracing her jaw, caressing her bottom lip. She winks and steps back, grabbing the broom and dustpan.

Returning them to the closet, Donna turns back to him. "When will you learn? You can't keep secrets from me. I know —"

"Everything. Yes, but I bet you don't know what I have planned for your bathroom."

"_My_ bathroom?"

Harvey grins at her. She starts undoing his tie then wraps her arms around him and kisses him again, this time leaving them both breathless.

"Yes, you get your own bathroom and closet, I get my mancave."

"I like the way you think Mr. Specter."

"Good, because I think we need to take off your clothes now." He leans in to her, rubbing his hands along the edge of her jeans, fingers skimming beneath her shirt. Pressing his lips against hers, he smiles into her lips when she runs her nails along the fabric of his coat.

Pulling away, she looks up at him, eyes dark and breathing heavy. "Funny, I was thinking the same thing about you."

"Less talking," he pushes her against the wall, pulling her shirt over her head, "more doing."

His hands tangle with hers as he arcs them over her head against the wall. He sucks along the column of her throat, feeling the moan build inside her. He covers her mouth with his, drawing it out as he grinds against her. She slides her hands beneath his coat, slipping it off him with practiced ease. His shirt follows in quick procession, the buttons somehow undone with care. When she climbs up him and bites his earlobe playfully, he wonders for the hundredth time why they waited so long.

His hand slides along her thigh, hoisting her up and pressing into the heat of her. She tightens her legs around his waist, scraping her nails along his scalp. He pulls away and looks her in the eyes, waiting for that smile that graces her features when she's exceedingly happy. It's slow to build, but warms his whole body when she delivers, causing him to mirror her own reaction. Pushing up against him, she kisses his forehead and the bridge of his nose, his cheeks and his lips. Whispering her love all along the way, he murmurs the same against the hollow dip between her collarbones.

"Thank you for the house," she whispers as she reaches behind and unclasps her bra, letting it fall to the floor. Eyes level with her breasts; Harvey places a kiss in the center of her chest.

"No. Thank you."

He pulls them both away from the wall and carries her into their bedroom, kicking the door shut along the way.

.::.

Much later that evening, she's sitting on the counter wearing his discarded dress shirt, hair completely sexed, devouring some chocolate concoction Harvey created moments before. Harvey has his back to her, clad in his sweat pants. With his own meal cooking on the stove, he turns when he feels her foot nudge him in the bum, a mischievous smile on her face.

"What?" His suspicion gets the better of him.

She looks away, all innocence and daisies, but by the way she's licking her fingers he knows she's waiting to pounce. "Nothing."

"I know that look." He turns to face her fully, placing his hands on either side of her on the counter. He nuzzles her neck and places a wet kiss to her smooth skin, working his way to her mouth. She tastes like dark chocolate and sex. He only stops when she smacks him on the back.

"Don't let your food burn!" she pushes him around just in time to stir whatever he threw into that pot. Letting it cool, he hopes it'll be edible enough to fuel him for the next round of bedroom acrobatics. Harvey turns once more, this time leaning against the counter opposite, watching as she downs a full glass of water. Once she sets her glass and bowl in the sink, she looks back at him expectantly, her feet bouncing against the cabinet absently.

"So…" She sits and stares blankly.

"Donna?" He gives her an encouraging smile, and then scrubs his hand over his face. "Is there something you need to tell me?"

A flash of a smile and she looks down at her feet, shaking her head to herself. She takes a breath and looks back up at him. He's never seen her like this, and it is very unsettling.

"Well, no. Not really?" She tosses her hair over her shoulder nervously, and he starts to inch forward. "I mean… Yes? How uh…" she makes a face, then continues, "how many bedrooms were you planning on this house having, exactly?"

He stops and stares at her, suddenly his heart is beating very loud in his chest. "Four, maybe five. Why?"

She nods, yet still seems a little off-kilter. "See, here's the thing. It's actually kind of funny…"

Harvey can't take the hedging and nervous babbling any longer. He steps up to her and puts his hands on her cheeks, drawing her attention solely on him.

"Just say it."

"I'm pregnant."

Even though he hears the words, she has to repeat herself twice before he seems to understand. About four hundred emotions flood him at once, but the most predominant is elation.

"Really?!" he pulls away from her and looks at her still flat belly. "Pregnant?"

She nods, smiling. "I went to the doctor yesterday. Six weeks two days and… an hour or so give or take."

He's still a little confounded. Thrilled, but dumfounded. "A baby. We're having a baby. We made a baby."

Donna smirks at him as the news settles in. "Yes, it has indeed come to pass."

Nudging her knees apart, he slides between them and pulls her close, burying his head in her neck. They hold that position for countless minutes, breathing deep and soaking up their mutual warmth.

"We're going to have a baby," he whispers, the words foreign on his tongue.

"Uh-huh," she says as she pulls back, looking him in the eyes. "Your very own, one-of-a-kind, fireball. Congratulations, you officially knocked me up."

He rolls his eyes at her candor and kisses her long and slow. He feels her smile against his lips and can't help but reciprocate. Once she pulls away, she presses her forehead against his, arms wrapped loosely around his neck.

"I can't believe there could be a little Harvey Specter in there," he says.

"Slow down buddy. It'll be a Harriet. Paulsen women only have girls. And I hope you like redheads, because that's all we make."

He looks up and his grin is so wide he thinks his face might split in two. "I happen to love redheads. Very much."

"Then you're in luck."

She pulls him in for another kiss and soon his dinner is forgotten. Everything is forgotten, really — everything except them.

.::.::.::.

A/N: This could have been split into two parts, but I figured what the heck, why not? Hope you enjoyed!


	5. Chapter 5

Title: Five Things From Which You Can't Go Back (5/5)

Pairing: D/H

Rating: K+

Summary: The ring is burning a hole in his pocket. FUTURE!FIC. D/H. FLUFFY AS ALL GET OUT.

A/N: This is a FUTURE!FIC. No specific time in the future. The timeline WILL NOT be chronological. This is a _five_ _things _in the sense that there will be five chapters. Once again, I gauge interest in a story by the feedback, so please let me know what you think. Thanks for reading, enjoy!

.::.::.::.

The ring is burning a hole in his pocket.

It's been there for months — eight, actually. It's not ostentatious, more sophisticated and cut in such a way that won't overpower Donna's thin fingers. He loves her fingers, smooth and long, with perfect back scratching nails.

The ring almost a security blanket at this point. He's never really doubted wanting to marry Donna; he's just struggling with the idea of the circus that'll happen prior to the wedding. Getting himself in the mindset of dealing with work, pre-wedding plans, and Donna's large, crazy family are what he's so ambivalent about. If he could propose on a Friday, have a small ceremony on a Saturday, sex all day on Sunday and honeymoon to follow, then sure, he'd already be married.

Unfortunately, he knows for a fact that Donna's family would insist on watching her get married. She has like, twenty sisters, so they'd all have to be there. At this point, Donna's father should pay _him_ to elope with his middle daughter.

Donna's voice comes through the intercom, sounding terse as she relays a message. That tone that she's been using lately makes him a little anxious. Harvey Specter does not do anxious. Rising and walking away from her desk, he has the opportunity to watch a couple of seniors associate ogle as she passes by. It's the mere thought of her feeling remotely unloved, or in some way dissatisfied with him that wakes Harvey up. The only emotions he wants Donna feeling are loved, worshiped, desired, and cherished.

Harvey waits until she's on her way back, her walk a little subdued until Harvey catches her eye and winks at her. Her strut morphs into a sashay and he can't help but smile, his eyes drawn to the curve of her hips and the length of her legs.

When she takes a seat, she sits in such a way that affords him the best view of her crossed legs. He fully intends to remind her repeatedly how much he adores her legs; especially the almost-heart-shaped birthmark on her upper thigh. He'll dig his fingers into her hips, lavish praise at the jut of her bone at the top, travel languorously to the peaks of her chest, down the valley between and —

"Oh Harvey?" Donna patches through, her voice breaking his daydream. "Young Michael appears to need some assistance in aisle three. Can't take that leash off yet."

Harvey curses under his breath and rises, promising himself that today is the day. Today is the day he's going to propose to Donna Paulsen.

.::.

One thing leads to another and he leaves late from the office only to arrive at home to find a container full of leftovers and Donna snuggled under a mound of pillows and blankets. She looks so incredibly comfortable that he forgoes dinner entirely, quickly readies for bed and crawls in beside her, letting her warmth seep into him. He's asleep in less than a minute, complete exhaustion taking over.

When Harvey awakes the next morning, it's to a note from Donna and the scent of her wrapped around him. He hugs her pillow to his chest and breathes deep, knowing that today, today is the day.

.::.

Today is not the day. When he gets to work there are fire trucks outside and the building has been evacuated. A bomb threat was called in to the bank that is housed in the first 24 stories of the building. Knowing the network is going to be bombarded, Harvey leaves a voicemail on Donna's phone then heads to the courthouse.

He sees Donna twice that day, once from across the street as she gets a pretzel with Rachel, the second time when he gets home from work.

"You know, for two people that work with each other, I sure don't see you very much," Harvey says as he brushes his hands over her hair and rubs her shoulders.

"We work together?" Donna replies, handing him a plate from their favorite take-out place. "I thought you were some man in a glass castle."

"I believe those are called kings, and yes, I am." Harvey nips her on the neck then digs into his food.

When she tells him she's going to take a bath, she says it over the rim of her wine glass, her tongue flicking out to lick off a drop of red gathered at the top.

He forgets the rest of his dinner and the ring and pretty much everything else.

"I think I need a bath too."

"The more the merrier."

.::.

It manages to not be The Day for another week. During that time he manages to talk himself in and out of proposing forty different times, all the while, Donna remains completely clueless.

Riding a high from a lucrative settlement, he takes it as a sign and goes home before Donna with a meal to cook and a knee to bend.

When she gets home though, she's immediately suspicious.

"Who are you, and what have you done with Harvey Specter?" Her arms are crossed and she wears a dubious expression. "I take it the settlement meeting went well. No victory dinner with Jessica?"

"No, saving that for Friday," Harvey helps her out of her coat, feeling mildly jittery.

She goes to the stove and lifts the lid on the pot, breathing in and nodding her head. When he offers her a wine glass she wears an unusual smile, one that he's seen once or twice that makes him a little wary.

"What?" he asks.

"Oh… nothing." She gives him this smug grin; this omniscient grin that makes him set down his glass and look away. When he looks back, she's leaning against the counter, watching his every move.

He walks around the counter, eyes narrowed. Almost as second nature, he shoves his hand in his pocket, fingers grazing over the ring, receiving some bizarre sense of strength from it. Silly? He thinks not.

At this point, Harvey can't tell if she knows or not, but he'll be damned if he's going to let her win.

So he brushes past her and pulls the butter out for the bread. "Would you mind setting the table? I'm going to finish up the bread and then we can eat."

"Sure." She gets the plates and silverware, setting the table silently. Once the food is plated, they sit down to eat, the sounds of a manic piano covering their stilted conversation. He tries to avoid her eyes, but every time he looks up, she has him pinned with this intrusive gaze.

"I give up, why do you keep looking at me like that?"

Feigns innocence. "Like what?"

"Like I've got a secret and you already know what it is."

She takes her ever so sweet time, sipping from her wine glass and setting it down carefully. "Well… because you do and I do."

"How?"

"How do I know what it is or how do I know that you have a secret?"

He scoffs, hating it when she talks him into a circle. "The latter, I think."

"You've gotten increasingly irritable lately, you clam up every time I mention my family, you scowl every time that senior associate talks about his fiancé and the wedding plans, you've taken to avoiding our favorite brunch place because it's beside a wedding boutique, and … this is the real giveaway, you check your right pocket every time you stand, every time you get off an elevator, and especially when you're talking to Jessica."

Harvey follows her stream of thought, but refuses to give her any leeway. He wants to know where she can take this. "That sounds completely idiotic, you realize that, right? What does it all mean?"

Now, when she smiles, it's slow and infused with love. It's _his _smile. "You've been wanting to give me a ring that lives in your pocket for months, because you want to be my husband, but you don't want to deal with all the other bullshit that comes with getting married. You've only gotten serious about giving it to me for the past few weeks though, but for some odd reason, you keep backing down."

Harvey remains expressionless, inwardly cursing her superpower.

"So here's the deal, Harvey," she says as she leans forward her face suddenly serious. "You can keep that ring in your pocket until you're fully committed to the whole ordeal, or you can give me the damn thing and we can go to Jessica's beach cottage in the Hamptons on Saturday where fifteen of our nearest and dearest will be waiting. The ceremony will be over within an hour and the scotch will flow like rain."

Harvey stares at her blankly, completely gobsmacked. "How?" He palms his eyes, scrubs his hands over his face, and looks back at this completely ridiculous woman. "I… How?" He huffs out, letting it settle in his mind. "When did you do all this?"

Donna shrugs, acting like it's no big deal. "I started a few months ago — when I found the ring in your suit before I sent it out for dry-cleaning."

"You knew about the ring!?"

"Oh Harvey, I model it all the time when you go out for runs."

Harvey breaks, starts laughing in the way people do when they're near hysterics. "You realize you're insane, right?"

"You realize you are the worst proposer in the history of proposers, right?" She states matter-of-factly. "I would know. I'm kind of an expert."

He exhales loudly, surveying this woman who knows him better than he knows himself. "You're incorrigible."

"You're impossible," she shoots back. "So… What's it going to be Mr. Specter?"

He weighs her question carefully, "This Saturday at Jessica's cottage, only fifteen people… and a guarantee of scotch. I think… I agree to your terms."

She gives him a long-suffering smile and rolls her eyes. Instead of waiting for him, she stands and collects their plates, setting them in the sink. When she turns, Harvey is right behind her, holding the ring between thumb and forefinger. He leans forward and presses his forehead to hers, kissing her lightly on the lips.

"I had a speech. But… you kind of blew it all away," he murmurs, reaching down to grab her hand. "Just know that I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Please do me the honor of becoming my wife."

She breathes 'yes' into his lips, a tear escaping as he seals his mouth over hers, the ring now at home on her finger as they twine hands.

.::.

"So, that's it," Harvey states, looking at his granddaughter. "That's how I proposed to your Grandmom."

"Don't listen to him," Donna says from his side, tapping him on the thigh. "It's pretty obvious who did the proposing in that story."

"What do _you_ think?" Harvey asks pointedly, their granddaughter looking at them both cautiously.

"Well…" she says thoughtfully, running her fingers along her chin. "I think I'm going to decline to answer."

.::.::.::.

A/N: Thanks for reading! As an FYI, there will be an epilogue.


	6. Epilogue

Title: Five Things From Which You Can't Go Back

Pairing: D/H

Rating: K+

Summary: Harvey says something, his words wrapping around the air like a shadow, hovering between silence and darkness: "Do you ever wonder…?" *epilogue*

A/N: I've enjoyed coming up with their hypothetical future, much more pleasant than the will they/won't they? I've had to endure from so many other shows. Anyway, thanks for reading, enjoy!

.::.

And this, this is why they do not press forward.

.::.

It's late and the office is quiet, save for the night crew coming in to vacuum and dust.

Harvey scrubs his eyes, bleary from hours of scouring phone records. The case is high profile and hush-hush; not even Mike gets to do his grunt work. Movement out of the corner of his eye pulls his gaze to his assistant. She's at her desk, armed with a pink highlighter, performing the preliminary scan of records before she passes them back to him.

They've done that for years, her careful competent eye scrutinizing and evaluating. She's so adept at her work that Harvey has only caught something she missed twice. Twice in thirteen years.

Still, this is how they work: like a well-oiled machine or a refined whiskey.

After two minutes, he realizes he's been watching her this whole time, and shakes his head to himself. He can't go down that road. Not again. They may dance around the subject of _them_ all the time, but when it comes time to step forward, he always shies away. Then again, so does she.

Sometimes it's the way he feels. At first it was all carnal and possessive, a couple years later it was a thrill and a challenge, then it was need and loneliness. Now, it's a subtle kind of longing, a constant sense of displacement he feels except when she's near. Regardless, he gets right to the edge, occasionally with a foot dangling over the side. Every time he pulls back.

It could be the look in her eyes: the want, the desire, the fear, the hesitation and disappointment. It could be the day of the week, or the cut of his suit, or whether or not he's eaten. All these paltry excuses he takes as a sign and uses them to _mean something_. Whether they do or not isn't for him to decide.

They've kissed a few times, most were chaste or apologetic, one or two still chase him into his dreams.

Now, after everything that's happened recently, he wonders about her true feelings. He thinks she's fooling herself, because no one puts up with the shit he's put her through unless there is love of a deeper kind there. He also knows that as often as he contemplates taking the next step, he can never see past the great unknown. That is what holds him back more often than not.

But right now, he's tired and a little bit reckless. Tired of waiting, tired of wondering, tired of _wanting._

He rises and grabs his jacket, slides it on with ease and buttons it with care. Almost as a sixth sense, Donna does the same, turning off her computer and gathering her purse and coat. He opens his door just as she's turning to walk with him on the way out. She smiles at him softly, the kind where she has her comfy bed in mind and little else.

"You look tired," Harvey says, just to get a rise out of her.

"Yeah, you look like a million bucks, too."

They walk to the elevator in silence, their footsteps echoing off the walls and cubicles. When they reach the lobby, she reaches out and presses the down button, stepping back from the doors. He tries not to think about all the times they've ridden in elevators together, all the times they haven't, all the times he should have gone after her.

The door chimes and they get in, both standing a respectable distance from each other. They both watch as the floors count down, quickly approaching ground level. When they exit, they pass through the lobby and security. Once they get outside the sharp, cold air takes their breath away.

"Hey, it's late. Let Ray give you a ride home," he insists, not comfortable with Donna taking a taxi this late.

"Harvey —"

"Get in, I'm freezing my balls off out here." Harvey smirks, knowing that will get her in the car.

"Heaven forbid you experience shrinkage," she mutters, climbing inside.

They're both quiet on the ride over to her place, both exhausted, their thoughts trying to be on anything but each other. Of course, they fail. Harvey keeps wondering _what if_, while Donna ponders the _eventually_ part of her life.

Once the car pulls up to her place, she steps out, surprised to find Harvey walking with her to the door. She stops once she's at the entrance, turning to Harvey slowly. She looks at him, really looks at him, and feels her heart stutter in her chest. He looks cold and serious and wanting.

"Thanks for the ride, Harvey," she pulls out her keys. "I really appreciate it."

"Yeah, no problem."

Her hands are so stiff from the cold that when she gets out her keys, she fumbles and they drop to the ground. Harvey beats her, picking them up quickly. He grabs her outstretched hand in his and places the keys in her palm carefully, the warmth from his hands seeping through hers.

Harvey says something, his words wrapping around the air like a shadow, hovering between silence and darkness: "Do you ever wonder…?"

_if we could be happy? _

_if we'd stay in your apartment or mine?_

_if we'd have a daughter with red-hair and an infectious laugh?_

_if you'd be the one to die first, or would it be me? how will we survive without the other?_

_if you'd let me build you a house?_

_if we'd get married at a cottage in the Hamptons?_

Donna takes a step forward, ducking her head as her dark eyes pierce his. It's the telling silence of a man who is running the possibilities. "Harvey?"

_or would someone say, "I can't do this anymore," get fed up, and walk away?_

_or would someone fall out of love, the hard and painful way, with our hearts ruined for anyone else?_

_or would I receive your letter of resignation, once I sign the dotted line and our divorce is final?_

_or would you be the one to die first? how will I survive without you?_

_or would tears be shed and doors slammed, resentment and anger festering until we're both miserable?_

Donna stiffens at the look in his eyes, the raw emotion and vulnerability. Her hands want to reach out, pull him close and press her lips against his. But they've done that before, in moments of weakness and sadness and joy and excitement. One of these days, they won't be able to pretend it never happened. So she hesitates, because it's late and he's got to be tired. Better to let him rest before giving any merit to the way he's gazing at her. Better to let him rest before he changes their future.

Taking a step away from Harvey, the moment is broken. Harvey shrugs to himself and looks away. "Yeah, never mind."

"You sure?"

Harvey looks at her, licks his lip and nods. "Positive."

Hiding her frown, Donna unlocks her door and turns to Harvey. "Thanks again. Have a good night."

"You too." Harvey walks to his car and gets in, and then it drives away. Donna leans against the wall in the foyer, eyes closed tight and breathing ragged, just like Harvey who is blocks away.

Turning to the stairs, Donna starts climbing slowly, murmuring, "I wonder… all the time."

For all their bravado and confidence, they will let each other in, but only so far. Because in the end, he might keep toeing the line, but she'll always be the one to keep her head and step away. As they remind themselves all too often, some things, they cannot get back.

.::.::.::.

_fin_


End file.
